


You Scammed The Rich Without Me?

by aenor_llelo, BattleBlaze, Falrisesi, Rocket999



Series: Orphan's Path [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Awkward Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Big Men In The Big City- What Crimes Will They Commit, Drugs! They Exist, Featuring True Facts About Pigs, Gen, Immortal Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Injury Recovery, Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Reading, Scamming The Rich, Skyblock, Technoblade Discovering What The Fuck Dogs Are, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), The Nether (Minecraft), There's A Castle In The Sky Or 500, Trains, Travel, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aenor_llelo/pseuds/aenor_llelo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleBlaze/pseuds/BattleBlaze, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falrisesi/pseuds/Falrisesi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocket999/pseuds/Rocket999
Summary: After travelling together in the Overworld, mercifully alive, Philza decides to take his new friend Technoblade to his home in the Sky. His wings needed a check-up, anyway.He rents a place on an out of the way sky island, where they can pretend to be at peace for a bit. Somewhere Phil doesn't have to think about how bloody fucking old he is, and hopefully people won't ask questions about the suspiciously non-undead piglin he's got walking around with him outside the Nether now.Hopefully.(As Techno would say, "no plan survives contact with the enemy.")
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson
Series: Orphan's Path [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170485
Comments: 66
Kudos: 317





	1. Natural Skepticism

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series! Please go back and read the previous parts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It just sounds fake.

* * *

“You know,” Techno slyly points out as he tugs his new long gloves on, “you still haven’t proved you can  _ fly _ .”

“What?” Philza sputters. “You’ve-  _ you’ve flown with me! _ ”

“I’ve  _ floated _ with you,” Techno insists, wry smile pulling past his tusks. “You’re the one saying you were only riding the-” He squints. “-the, uh, hot air thing-”

“Thermals?”

“Yeah, that. I’m so good at words.”

“The only reason I  _ could _ do that was because I do, in fact, know how to fly,” Philza slowly points out.

“Still sounds fake.”

Philza laughs. “You’ve seen  _ phantoms! _ You  _ know _ wings aren’t fake!”

“I saw  _ one _ phantom in the dark for like half a second before you killed it.” Techno stuffs a carrot in his mouth. “Still fake.”

“You know what?” Philza stands up. “Fuck you. You sit right there, you big bastard, I’m settling this.”  Before Techno can dare ask what the fuck Philza is planning  _ this _ time, the man jauntily walks over to the chicken sitting by the porch and picks it up.

“Philza,” Techno calls out. “Philza, what are you doing.”

“Proving a damn point,” Philza hisses as he clambers up the house.

“Don’t jump off the roof, you have so much to live for.” Techno pauses for a few seconds. “Like, I don’t know, bread or something.”

“I’m not trying to die, jeez.” It takes a few frantic flaps to keep his balance, but he makes it onto the roof eventually. “Oop, there we go.”

Techno looks out to the other houses. “I respect your choices, but I’m pretty sure if you stay there you’re gonna have villagers telling you not to jump.”

Speaking of villagers, here comes one right now.

“Um, sir.” The villager fiddles with their hat. “If you’re gonna be eatin’ that, yer gonna have to pay for it.”

Philza pauses. “What?”

“Well, I mean,” the villager fumbles, “knowin’ how you elytron folks are, I ain’t stoppin you from yer natural instinct or anythin’, but you could at least pay for it before ya go wild.”

Philza blinks. “Oh! That! No, I’m just borrowing this. It’s fine,” he says as he holds the very confused chicken in front of himself. “It’s fine!”

“I’m sure,” Techno insincerely concedes from next to the villager. “Still doesn’t explain the chicken, though.”

“It’s for the point,” Philza explains.

“What point-”

And then Philza throws the chicken off the roof, making direct eye contact with Techno as the piglin watches the chicken slowly fly downward.

“Huh.” Techno blinks. “Okay. So flying isn’t fake.”

“I fucking told you-”

“Still doesn’t mean  _ you _ can fly, though,” Techno snarks.

“You are fucking  _ incorrigible _ is what you are!” Philza shouts. “Absolutely brick fucking dense!”

“I’m naturally skeptical. There’s a difference.” Techno leans to sit on the stone fence behind him. “Can you even get down from there?”

A brief silence reigns as Philza contemplates the height of the building he's climbed, and the battered state of his wings.

“Please help me get down,” Philza shamefully pleads.

“ _ Scam _ ,” Techno drones at Philza as the villager gets a ladder. “You’re a  _ scam _ .”

“ _ Oi, oi, oi! _ ” Philza spitefully snaps open his rattling wings, a mock hiss riding up his throat. “You don’t get toOOOOO-”

He slips and falls on the ground. Fun.

Techno looks down at him. “You good?”

“Fuck you,” Philza hisses into the soil. “ _Gods, my bones._ When all my feathers come back in I’m going to kick you in the shins.”

“I don’t even know what a shin is.”

“ _ You will _ .”

* * *


	2. Where We're Going, We Don't Need Rails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno continues to marvel at the insanity of this foreign dimension.

* * *

“So where are we headed?”

“We’re heading out to Beacontown. Well, _a_ beacontown.” Philza waves his hand. “They call every place with a beacon that. Were you seriously about to just follow me without even knowing where we’re going?”

“I like you and also I don’t know anything here,” Techno bluntly responds.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Philza taps his talon to the map on the station wall. “Beacontowns are these big bloody cities.” He pauses. “Do you even have cities in the Nether? It’s like, uh…”

“Bastions?” Techno fills in.

“Yeah!” Philza snaps his fingers. “Something like that. Imagine bastions, but chock full of people and shops.”

Techno hums. “That sounds… loud. And dangerous.”

“The only dangers in beacontowns are the people,” Philza laughs lightly. “They keep a tight ship, there’s not gonna be a single night mob spawnin’ in.”

“How many people are we talking about?” Techno warily asks.

“Could be a couple hundred. Could be thousands.” Philza shrugs. “Won’t know ‘til we get there.”

“ _Lovely_ ,” Techno sarcastically praises. “Because having that many random strangers clustered together in a small place is a very good idea.”

“Well don’t shoot _me_ ,” Philza defends, “I didn’t come up with it. Some rich enough church just goes and builds one of those bloody things, people start moving in around it for the proximity, and _oop_ , there’s a beacontown.”

“Hmm.”

“There’s better shops in big cities,” Philza offers. “I was thinking we could get you some proper stuff, y’know? Warmer clothes, more books.” He pats the ender eye of his hard black traveling bag. “Mostly I’m hopin’ we could fix you up with your own enderchest. You’re gonna need your own if we keep up this traveling thing.”

“I do like having things,” Techno concedes.

Philza pats Techno’s shoulder. “There’s a good lad. Besides, we'll only be staying there for a few days at most until the next airship comes. After that we'll just fuck off to Sky and we won't have to think about crazy Overworld nonsense until the next time we feel like it.”

Techno snorts. “Alright.” He’s so unreasonably tall he has to lean down a little to look at the map properly. “I’m guessing we’re somewhere _on_ this tiny picture.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Philza points up to a northern part of the map. “We were in Judas right there, and the carriage took us to…” His finger trails down the lines of the roads. “Oreton, I think.”

“Neat.” Techno adjusts his glasses. “Makes me wish I could read.”

“Like you aren’t halfway to figuring out Script on your own,” Philza laughs. And then laughs again, because the long suffering look on Techno’s face is fucking _sending_ him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he giggles as he jostles Techno again. “I’ll try and teach you. The jump from endewrit to Script ain’t bad.”

“Whatever,” Techno scoffs. “How far away’s your beacontown, anyways?”

“Eh, only about 2500 kiloblocks out or so.”

“Philz.” Techno looks down at him with a horrified cringe. “Philz, how are we going to go _that many blocks?_ That’ll take-” he pauses, looking down at the page in their book where Philza wrote about time. “-that’ll take _months_ of walking at least. That is… terrible. Torturous. Other Script words for bad. I hate it.”

Philza snorts. “We’re not gonna _be_ walking, dumbass.”

“Then how-”

Both their ears cock up at the sudden ring of the station’s bell. 

Philza pulls Techno closer to him just in time for the hulking bladed sled cars of the ice train to glide on their frozen blue path. The friction of its movement whistles and warbles and rings, stuttering as the cars skate over carefully calculated interruptions of staggered polished stone on the road, slowing it to a stop.

“That’d be how,” Philza finally says. 

“How fast was that thing going?” Techno shakily asks.

“Those things clock nearly 70 blocks a tick,” Philza wryly smiles as he savors Techno’s awestruck shock. “Fastest damn thing in the world. We’ll be at Beacontown by day’s end.”

“That’s such a scam,” Techno whispers. “That’s _such a scam_. Everything about the Overworld is so fake it’s not even funny.”

“I know, right? I love it.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (boats on ice are the fastest thing in minecraft and this is hilarious to me)
> 
> The town names were provided by Corbin, a member of our Discord!


	3. So A Pig And A Parrot Walk Into A Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big men in the city, what crimes will they commit?

* * *

“Hello!” Philza calls out as the shop bell announces his presence. “Do you happen to do big guy clothes?”

“How- how big is the guy?” the tailor nervously asks, looking towards the entrance.

“ _ Boy _ ,” Philza jauntily smiles as Techno tries to duck into the two block tall door after him, “I’m so glad you asked!”

-<>♥<>-

“Hello!” a parrot calls.

“Hallo?” Techno hesitantly calls back.

The parrot shutters its eyes, tilting its head. “ _ Hallo _ ,” it repeats back with Techno’s voice.

A silence.

“Philza, your little brother is mocking me.”

Philza turns around. “My  _ who- _ ”

-<>♥<>-

“This is a very large man,” Techno says as he points at a horse.

Philza frowns. “Techno, that’s a horse.”

“Surely not.” Techno wanders closer to the horse, meeting its frighteningly dark eyes. “I see a well of a thousand souls within its gaze.”

“It’s….still a horse.”

Techno points at the person passing by with a very obvious horse's head. “You said that guy’s a person, though.”

“That’s-” Philza pinches his brow. “That’s a moblin.”

“Goblin?”

“No,  _ moblin _ , because they look like  _ mobs _ -”

-<>♥<>-

“I refuse to believe this is a food,” Techno states as he looks down at the small frosted cake. “Why is it shiny? And  _ snowy?  _ ”

“It’s  _ sweet _ ,” Philza insists. “You know, like fruit, but… more, I guess.”

“This does not look like a fruit.”

“There’s fruit  _ in _ it,” Philza notes as he reads the sign. “This one’s got cherries. They bake that stuff into it.”

Techno blinks. “Oh, it's bread.”

“Almost, yeah.”

Techno looks down at the paper bag Philza carries. “Bread’s a wheat thing.”

“Yep.”

“This thing’s got that wheat grain nonsense in it.”

Philza takes another bite out of his cake. “Sure does.”

Techno frowns. “Didn’t you  _ just _ tell me grain stuff is bad for elytron?”

Philza picks up his walking pace as he chews his cake faster.

“ _ Philza. Philza, come back here _ -”

-<>♥<>-

“What exactly is an airship?”

“It’s a boat, but it floats.” Philza draws round shapes in the air in front of him. “They’ve got these big white air balloon things that keep ‘em up. I don’t really know how it works myself.”

“Okay.” Techno tries to imagine one of the boats he saw in the lake, tied to a bunch of ghasts. “Alright then. That’s… fine.”

“The boat is not tied to a bunch of ghasts,” Philza flatly reassures.

“ _ Oh thank gods. _ ”

-<>♥<>-

Techno’s eyes sharpen, ears raising at a new sound.

Philza waves his hand. “Don’t worry about that, that’s just a dog, they bark all the time-”

Techno leans out the window and  _ barks back _ at the dog, a resonant growling sound, tail thumping against the chair for good measure. 

Philza jumps back, wings rattling under their shell. “What the  _ fuck _ , mate?”

“It challenged me,” Techno insists.

“ _ You gave me a heart attack, is what you did _ .”

“It challenged me.”

-<>♥<>-

There’s a pig moblin loitering outside Mina’s shop.

She can’t help but let her ears perk up. It’s been so long since she’s seen another proper pig in this town, it wouldn’t hurt to chat just a bit. Hopping off her stool, she bunches up her long skirt, hooves clacking on the wooden floor as she opens the door.

“Hello, there, si _ rrrrr _ ….”

Oh dear. This one’s certainly- certainly  _ taller _ than he looked from the other side of her foggy window. (Goodness, he’s even taller than a  _ human! _ )

The odd man blinks milky golden eyes. “Hallo,” his flat voice drawls with some implacable accent. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Mina squeaks. “No, not at all! Just, ah-” She awkwardly clasps her hands together. “What are you… doing  _ here _ , exactly?”

“Trying to read your signs.” He huffs as he turns his little book to her, pages crawling with thin scratches of endewrit and Script. “I’m not too good at it.”

The white sleeves of a poet shirt tuck loosely into his long brown gloves, and as she tries to avoid staring somewhere  _ other _ than the heaviness of his brows or the wave of his coarse fur or his… rather wide chest, she ends up catching sight of some  _ very _ muscular legs.

Oh dear.

“Well! You’re certainly not bothering anyone here!” she laughs nervously. (And her tail’s  _ wagging _ like a schoolgirl, too, how embarrassing.) “Do come inside if anything catches your eye.”

“Oh?” In an oddly graceful gesture for his size, he half bows to meet her eyes, and as kind as the thought is it only draws attention to how much larger he is than her. “What do you have?”

“ _ Oh _ ,” her voice nervously wavers, “a little this and that-”

-<>♥<>-

“Techno!” Philza briskly crosses the street. “There you are.” 

Techno’s obliviously looming over some pig moblin woman, who looks  _ very _ flustered as she tries not to ogle him. Philza would almost laugh if she didn’t look like she was about to combust on the spot.

“Good gods,” he interrupts instead, “don’t harass the poor woman. We’re just about done for the day, anyways. We should go find an inn.”

Techno hums, straightening his glasses as he stands up straight again. “Alright then.” He snaps his book closed. He turns back to the woman. “Thank you for letting me wait.”

“Any time!” she half-squeaks.

“She must have thought you were a pig moblin like her,” Philza explains as she goes back inside. “Poor thing must have gotten a fright.”

“So she  _ wasn’t _ a piglin,” Techno notes. “Makes sense. Too small and round. Eyes were wrong, too.”

“Yeah. You’re just built different, mate.” A teasing note enters his voice. “Though not  _ too _ different, eh? I reckon she was sweet on ya.”

“Eh?”

“She was eyein’ you like a blushing bride,'' Philza chuckles. “She must have thought you were pretty.”

Techno looks absolutely  _ baffled _ at the concept. “I’m  _ pretty?  _ ” he repeats.

“Why not, eh?” Philza punches lightly at his friend’s arm. “You aren’t bad on the eyes.”

Techno frowns.  _ Wait, shit, _ Philza realizes, _ that sounded kind of weird, didn’t it _ -

“Al...right?” Techno hesitantly allows. “Then you’re pretty, too.”

_ What.  _ “What?”

“I like your wings,” Techno bluntly admits. “And your eyes. So I guess you’re pretty, too.” He squints. “Unless we’re being weird.”

Philza blinks for a bit before collapsing into nervous laughter.

“What are you laughing about?” Techno chuckles under his breath. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“ _ Gods _ ,” Philza wheezes, “we’re fucking disasters, the both of us.”

“You’re only realizing this now?” Techno snarks.

“Shut up or I’ll stuff five more breads in my mouth for dinner. I'll go into a food coma and then you'll be sorry.”

  
“Philza,  _ nO _ -”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact! pigs bark


	4. Do You Love The Color Of The Sky?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Which one?)

* * *

Mostly, Techno thought ‘airships’ would be more- unstable? If that was the word for it.

Because just  _ look _ at the thing. A giant hollow shell of wood, suspended by cloth and air and  _ quite possibly _ some wishful thinking. He understands there’s an ongoing pattern of him trusting new concepts a bit less than he probably should, but  _ still _ . His worldview is getting slaughtered every other hour. Cut him some slack.

It’s… fine. Probably. If the giant wooly  _ balloon _ things holding them up get broken, they will simply  _ glide _ towards their inevitable deaths, rather than plummeting like Philza did when he decided to believe ghasts weren’t real. 

(Does he still think that’s funny? Yes. Is he going to ever allow Philza to forget it? No.)

“You’re thinking about something stupid again, aren’t you?” Philza sighs.

“Oh, so you  _ admit _ you’re stupid.” Techno chuffs loudly. “Glad we’re on the same book there.”

“It's the same _ page _ , not the same _ book _ .”

“Same difference.”

It’s not so bad being stuck in the clouds- there’s some grim, vaguely fatalistic tranquility in the utter lack of control he has over his place in space-time, which in retrospect is probably not what he’s supposed to be getting out of this experience, but  _ whatever _ . 

Philza, at least, seemed to be having a good time in the clouds. Grinning like a wildman, wingspan completely stretched out on the deck. There’s this strange perpetual breeze floating around them, rustling at Techno’s own coarse fur.

Maybe it’s even peaceful. What a strange thought.

“Are we supposed to try sleeping while we’re on this thing,” Techno dares to ask, “or do we just let the phantoms follow us to our graves?”

Philza snorts, leaning on the railings of the ship. “I’m pretty sure we’re  _ a bit _ past phantom altitude.”

“Ah yes. _Altitude_. That's another word I know.”

“We gotta get you into a library when we touch down,” Philza insists. “Imagine an entire castle of books full of things you don’t know.”

“Castles are like bastions, right?”

“A bit, yeah.” Philza runs through his hair with a nervous sort of remembrance. “Libraries are a lot less  _ violent _ , though, that’s for sure.”

“ _ Less _ violent. So there’s still  _ some _ violence.”

“I mean-” Philza snickers to himself. “-just don’t try to  _ steal _ anything, or run around shouting like a village idiot, and you’ll be fine.”

“Damn,” Techno sarcastically clicks his tongue. “There goes my night on the town.”

“Technically, this is going to be our last  _ night _ for a while,” Philza points out. “I wasn’t kidding when I said Sky was a never-ending sunset. Things like day and night just kind of get chucked out the door altogether.”

“I thought that’s how you- isn’t that how you people tell time?”

“Maybe in the Overworld, yeah,” Philza concedes. “But for  _ us _ , we have our own things to count. Seasons, winds, tides. We didn’t really count little things like  _ days _ before, not until we started meeting people who cared about it.”

“That… makes sense, I guess,” Techno allows. “Overworlders are weird.”

“They  _ are _ strange,” Philza agrees. “But it’s nice, sometimes. Knowing there’s something out there that sees things different then you. Even if it’s weird.”

“Like the time thing.”

“ _ Like the time thing. _ ” Philza nods. 

-<>♥<>-

The flight isn’t  _ quite _ as long as the ice train ride, but every mode of travel, in Philza’s own experience, proves to be its own brand of exhaustion.

He didn’t think he’d  _ miss _ it so much. Sky, even if only the idea of it. 

He didn’t think he’d come back so soon. 

Or at all.

(Look at him. He’s getting  _ maudlin _ again like the old man his body won’t let him be. ~~Don’t think about it~~.)

He thought he would run and  _ fly _ and never, ever look back again. And he did, for a while. He didn’t  _ feel _ like he missed a single thing.

But seeing the mithril shine of that portal in the sky is putting a rattle in his feathers that isn’t coming from the cold.

“Are you okay?” Techno asks.

“Just thinking about how much it would suck if the ship crashed mid-crossing,” Philza lies.

“Well now you got  _ me _ thinking about it,” Techno complains. “ _ Thanks. _ ”

“You’re fucking welcome,” Philza flatly snarks back.

Techno finally follows his gaze, settling on the imposing sunfire glow of the portal. “Philza,” he says with a new kind of wariness. “Are we going into…  _ that _ thing?”

“ _ Yyyyyep _ ,” Philza draws out.

“Philza. Philz. Buddy. Friend. Pal. Are you trying to kill us?”

“Not anymore than I was  _ last _ time you followed me through a freaky world breaking door.”

“Oh, so only a  _ little _ bit trying to kill us,” Techno grimly smiles. “Good to know.”

“There’s nothing that dangerous in the Sky.  Well, mostly,” Philza clarifies. “Just don’t fall into the infinite ocean at the bottom of the world. Or look into the mist for too long.” A pause. “Or follow the sirens into the water.”

“You’re really selling me on this, Philza. I’m so convinced.”

“Good!” Philza brightly replies. “Because we already flew into the portal a good half minute ago.”

“Wait,  _ what _ -”

-<>♥<>-

Techno looks around, taking in the almost blinding red and orange lights around them.

It really is a sunset. All the scattered colors of day and night with no commitment to either, thin stripes of mist and clouds shining like glowstone dust.

And the  _ water _ . He could barely even believe that there could be so much water. Water so deep and fathomless it turned into a shimmering black mirror of the sky. Shapes underneath, ebbing and flowing like something alive, silvery greys leaping from out of the surface only to disappear again. Layers of mist, rolling along like clouds. A small glimmer of scales peeking out of it, cracks in the clarity. 

He spends such an obscenely long moment lingering on that one scene alone that it takes a little  _ longer _ to notice the islands themselves.

Cavernous mountains, inverted. Rock and crystal and stalactite worn into curved, crawling roots dripping with fog. Waterfalls spilling off of errant cliff sides next to knotted trees.

The buildings, in some ways, are like trees themselves- earthy walls and vibrant roofs and a sprawling height that climbs and climbs  _ and climbs.  _ Wandering paths of wood and clay gently weaved through them, echoes of the vine and root hanging as if the land itself grew these structures, too. 

Somewhere between all the grandeur of the islands and the ships and the sea, there are people- stout shadows chasing phantoms on the rocky underbellies below, vibrant flitting things with faces like birds, shapes with wild eyes and wide wings diving into the tall openings of buildings.

He thinks it just might be beautiful.

-<>♥<>-

Sky is the salt of the sea and the roll of the mist and the pull of clouds.

The blossoms of trees on the wind, the snaking dance of dragons in the distance, the roosts of wild griffins on rooftops.

The perpetual noise of colosseums and idle song and a thousand thousand memories that Philza realizes, if only in that moment, he shouldn’t have tried to forget.

“So?” He casually leans his face on his hand, turning to his friend. “What do you think?”

“Eh.” Techno shrugs apathetically. “It’s okay.”

(And if Philza couldn’t quite stop laughing at the thought until they landed, that’s between him and Techno, and not the crew member who concernedly asked if Philza was okay.)

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Philza waves away the rest of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll love it soon enough.”

* * *


	5. Well Then Give It To Me Straight, Doc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healers tend to sound like broken records after you've lived long enough.

* * *

It’s not that Philza  _ hates _ healers, or clerics, or priests. But they’re just so…

...tiring.

“Well, that can’t be right.” 

The healer- Emrook or something, he can’t quite recall- whispers disbelieving chirps under her breath as she thumbs at his life mark. Her thumb presses against the angry heart on his wrist, just enough for his pulse to lethargically drum into her fingers. She hums to herself.

“Marx,” she calls out to her assistant, “is there anything about accelerated heart callusing in the hardcore variance?”

“No, miss,” Marx answers back. “Ages like anyone else.”

“I see,” she mutters, before turning her face back to Philza himself. “How old did you say you were again?”

“I’ll be at my 120th in 3 moons from now,” he wearily recites. “But I’m guessing you saw that on my mark already.”

“Of course! Of course. My apologies, sir, it simply...” Emrook’s grip slackens. “...it is simply surprising for someone of your condition to have lived so long. I’d heard of you from my late master’s own writings, of course, but it’s another to see you in person. You may even be the longest lived case ever recorded.”

“So I’ve been told,” Philza flatly acknowledges.

“But other than,” her eyes briefly flicker to the gouging, eye-like patterns on his hearts, “the obvious, you seem to be in perfectly capable health. At least as healthy as you  _ can _ be.”

Philza’s restrained sigh warbles in the back of his throat. “Of course.”

“But enough of that grim business!” She drops her hold on his hand like a hot coal, and he mechanically shrugs his bracelet back onto his wrist. “You mentioned a broken wing?”

“I don’t actually know if it  _ was _ broken.” Philza turns to Techno. “How bad was I beat up?”

Techno softens his suspicious glance at Emrook when he looks back to Philza, tapping a hoof against his muzzle. “The wrists and shoulders on your wings were in bad shape. Other than that you had a lot of scratches and bruises.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Emrook gestures at Philza’s closed shell, and he opens his wings for her to take a closer look. “How did you treat him?” she asks Techno.

Techno fumbles for the right words. “Ehhhh…”

“Diluted regeneration potions,” Philza finishes for him. “I recognized it when I drank it. He gave me a whole round of them in my sleep before topping me off when I woke up.”

Emrook almost looks impressed, giving Techno a respectful nod. “You made the right call, diluting it.” She moves and twists the joints of Philza’s wing in her hands. “His kind of condition tends to come with sensitivities to potion effects- giving him the full dosage all at once would have been too much for him.”

“Any, uh-” Philza lets out a nervous laugh. “-any other damage?”

“Not at all. You’re healing about as quickly as can be expected.” She clucks sympathetically at his array of broken and regrowing feathers. “We can’t rush the feathers, of course, but your wings are healthy enough for imping in the meantime at least. It will be difficult to make feather grafts for a wingspan of your size, but it  _ is _ doable.”

Philza slumps in his seat. “Alright. Thank you.” He stands up and pauses. “Could you check up on my friend, too? His life marks just came in recently and they’re a bit... odd.”

-<>♥<>-

He’s still getting  _ used _ to it.

People covered up their life marks all the time, it seems, and Philza had gotten gloves for him to do it too. It was weird. But at least with the gloves, he didn’t really have to look at the things too much.

It’s still weird to see those golden hearts on his wrists, beating in time with his blood. 

It’s weirder still that he  _ feels it _ when this elytron healer goes and pokes at what is apparently  _ the bodily manifestation of his soul _ . He tries not to shiver at the sensation. It’s not  _ bad _ , but it’s… uncomfortable. If that’s the word for it. He gets why all the gloves and bracelets are a thing now.

She’s surprised, clearly, by whatever she sees. A raise of the eyebrows that wasn’t there before. “How long have you had these?”

“Uhh… a few weeks, I think.”

“Hmm. This happened at a shrine?” she asks Philza.

“A more rural one in an Overworld server, but it was pretty standard.” Philza’s eyes flick around Techno’s face. “The life marks came with that brand on his head, too.”

“Oh dear.” The healer squints at Techno even more than she already was. “If it’s not rude to ask, do you  _ remember _ much of the ritual itself? Did you see or hear anything strange?”

“Like what?”

“Figures in the corner of your eye. Voices, perhaps.”

_ Heh _

_ Hhaha _

_ Clever clever lady does she think she’s clever _

__ **_Does she think she’s safe_ **

_ Eeee E _

“I-” Techno awkwardly clears his throat. “I don’t-”  _ think  _ **_YOU UNDERSTAND DO YOU UNDERSTAND DO YOU UNDERSTAND DO YOU UNDERSTAND_ **

_ Do you ddddddddddddddddddddddddddare _

_ Tell her. Tell her. It would be funny. _

_ To see her wonder (and the fear) _

_ She can’t understand (he could understand HE COULDN’T he wouldn’t he wouldn’t he wouldn’t understand)  _ **_you don’t need to understand_ ** ,  _ AFTER ALL, _

  
“ **It’s nothing out of the ordinary** ,” he hears himself say.

* * *


	6. Once More, With Clarity, There Was Only One Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A temporary escape.

* * *

“So!” Philza puts his hands on his hips. “What do you think?”

“About the house?” Techno asks.

“ _ No, about the weather _ ,” Philza sarcastically answers. “ _ Yes _ , the house. You’ll live here, too. It’s got to be good for the both of us.”

It’s not a big place, but Philza doesn’t really care much for luxury. He can stretch his wings properly and that’s about as much as he needs. 

“It’s nicer than  _ my _ old place,” Techno vaguely notes. “It’s even got one of those weird soft beds you people like.”

“Yeah, the whole place is a bit cozy, I guess.” 

In retrospect, when he said he wanted to rent out  _ a private place for two _ , the landlord might have assumed he had a girl on his mind.

It would explain why there’s only one bed. 

(A  _ very large _ bed, but still.)

Whatever. It’s a place for two, there’s two of  _ them _ , and it’s got a good price for it. He’s lived too long to care about what people think about him and his habits.

“This island’s got less people around than in the city one,” Techno observes. “Is that normal?”

“Ehh, I kind of picked it out that way, to be honest,” Philza admits.

“And here I thought you  _ liked _ being around people,” Techno snorts.

Philza scoffs a quick laugh. “I don’t  _ hate _ people. But honestly? I don’t really want to run into lots of folks right near where I sleep. Weirds me out. And, well…” He trails off. “I don’t want people to go around botherin’  _ you _ , mate.”

“Who’s going to bother me?” Techno asks. “I’m just some guy.”

“You’re also the  _ one _ piglin in the Overworld that isn’t a walking zombie,” Philza points out. “You can’t get mistaken for a pig moblin forever, not with you being as giant as you are.”

Techno nervously chuckles. “People aren’t- they aren’t gonna stab me, are they?”

“No,  _ no! _ ” Philza quickly moves to reassure. “No one’s- no one’s stabbing anyone. It’s just- people are gonna gawk at you, y’know? You’re something they aren’t used to seein’. And I don’t want  _ you _ to have to deal with it every time you look outside.”

“That’s a lot of work you’re doin’ for me. You don’t have to do that.”

“ _ I  _ don’t wanna deal with people outside either. I mean-” Philza catches himself laughing again. “-you’ve seen how people treat me when they realize what I am.”

“What, you’re famous or something?”

“It’s the hardcore thing,” Philza explains. “I just- people aren’t used to people  _ like me _ , they don’t know how to act, so they just... freak out and treat me like glass.”

“Well that’s hardly kind,” Techno simply says. “You’ve lived  _ this _ long, haven’t you?”

“That’s what  _ I  _ say,” Philza tiredly retells, “but people are hard to change, I guess.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” With that profound sentiment,  Techno lays his new enderchest pack on the table. “Want to eat steak, run around like heathens in the city for the day, and crash together in bed like bitter old men about it?”

A silence.

“You know what? I actually do.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos, comments, critique, and unsolicited professional mourners equally welcome.  
> Consider looking into supporting us on Discord or Twitter. Or just join the Discord for funsies, asking questions, and getting faster chapter notifications.
> 
> https://discord.gg/xdhnqKj
> 
> https://twitter.com/aenorllelo


End file.
